


I've Got Legs. Do You Like Bread?

by queenklu



Category: Smallville RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-20
Updated: 2010-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 00:58:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenklu/pseuds/queenklu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike thinks Misha is new and interesting. Like paper airplanes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got Legs. Do You Like Bread?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N inspiration stolen from this Eddie Izzard quote: I had to chat up girls, and I'd only tagged them before. I didn't have the verbal power to be able to say, "Susan, I saw you in the classroom today. As the sun came from behind the clouds, a burst of brilliant light caught your hair; it was haloed in front of me. You turned, your eyes flashed fire into my soul, I immediately read the words of Dostoyevsky and Karl Marx, and in the words of Albert Schweitzer, 'I fancy you.' " But no! At 13, you're just going, " 'Ello, Sue. I've got legs. Do you like bread? I've got a French loaf. [mimes smacking her with the loaf and dashing off] Bye! (I love you!)"

The first time Mike sees him he is three seconds away from setting a water balloon on Mrs. Polanski’s chair. Like, Mike has already placed the balloon on the chair and is three seconds away from it when the door opens and in steps this kid in an orange and blue jumper with his books held to his chest, and at first Mike is sure he’s a little scared to be here but no, his eyes are just actually that big.

Mike is still frozen two steps from Mrs. Polanski when she asks the boy to introduce himself and sits down, so his ears are still ringing from her shriek down in the principal’s office and his jeans are a little damp from the balloon exploding. And he doesn’t get to know the boy’s name until science class.

Misha.

Misha is new and interesting in the way that girls should probably be interesting because they’re in 6th grade now, or at least the way girls are interesting to everyone but Chad, who likes to put gum in their ponytails and throw airplanes at the back of their heads. Not that Mike would say no to putting his hands in Misha’s hair or doing anything to get Misha to look his way. Misha’s new and interesting and Mike wants him to think Mike is new and interesting too, except not so new because he has been going to this school since he was five.

But Mike figures he’s a pretty interesting kid already. He’s almost always winning in the prankwar with Chad for one thing, and for the other thing, he has no hair.

It’s the first thing Misha says to him ever: “Hi, I’m Misha. You have no hair.”

Mike responds with a cleverly worded, “Erk,” and veers off to sit next to Patty Lecki in the back, even though everyone hates her because she has boobs. (This has never made sense to Mike, but neither do times tables.)

Okay so his plan to be interesting has taken a small, er, fumble, whatever. Step back? Set back! Yes, one of those. Mike doesn’t let it get him down. Or, he thinks he doesn’t, but when he gets out of science class he realizes he forgot about the prankwar and Mr. Morgan is looking a little rattled by it. Probably because it must’ve looked like Mike was taking notes, too, instead of making a List of Awesome.

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/queenklu/pic/0005tgbb/)   


The last one is not so awesome, which is why he put it last. But his mama always says that being Jewish is awesome, so it should go on the list somewhere.

Misha is sitting by himself at lunch, but he doesn’t look upset by it. He looks smart with his big eyes and his…what is that? Is there green stuff in his sandwich? Like veggies? And his book. Misha reads. Mike thinks maybe he should start a new list called Reasons Misha is Awesome Okay I Guess but he also thinks he can probably remember ‘he can read’ without writing it down.

He starts a food fight with Chad instead to show just how far he can throw, and makes it loud enough that Misha will totally have to look over and notice.

Or. Misha props his chin on his hand as a milk carton flies by his head and splooshes all over the wall, then he turns a page. Maybe it’s a really good book.

Then Chad whoops and tackles Mike’s face with a tray of gloopy mashed potatoes and Misha does look over in time to see that, blue eyes as wide as really big quarters. Mike scowls and squirts ketchup up Chad’s nose, and winds up back in Principal Kripke’s office for the rest of lunch period.   


  


There’s an empty desk next to Misha again in Social Studies and it’s the only one left by the time Mrs. Pinkerton finishes filing his pink slip. She’s smirking because she knows he’s been beat down already, and one more trip to Kripke’s office will get him detention for a week.

“Hi!” Misha says, beaming at him. “You have—“

“I know, I know, no hair,” Mike offers weakly. Maybe Misha doesn’t make friends with bald people. He could grow his hair out, and maybe ask Misha to wait a couple weeks to decide not to be friends with him.

Misha turns pink, like a chameleon Mike saw on TV once. “No, you, um. Potatoes.”

Mike’s still trying to figure out what he means when Misha pulls out a handkerchief from the pocket of his corduroy pants to dab at spot of crusting spuds just over Mike’s ear.

“I thought these were extinct,” Mike blurts, tugging at one corner. Misha beams again and shakes his head and lets Mike hold onto it, so Mike rubs the piece of cloth all over his shaved head and shakes off like a dog. Misha giggles and doesn’t take his handkerchief back. Mrs. Pinkerton starts talking about the Mesozoic Era as Mike folds the cloth into an airplane shape, even though it won’t fly; he’s still thinking about trying it, though, so he doesn’t really notice when Misha sneaks a piece of his paper.

At the end of class Misha snags his hankie back and stuffs it in his pocket as he’s walking, and Mike leaps up to ask him about waiting for his hair to grow but he trips and falls instead, and he has to go to the nurse to get a ziplock baggie full of ice because that’s what you do when you fall.

In gym class Misha isn’t very good at anything with a ball except chasing after it when it rolls away, but he never gets frustrated or upset even when Jenny Ackles is better at basketball and knocks him over once to get a shot in. Mike kinda wants to beat up Jenny Ackles, but she’s a girl. And she wears glasses. And her best friend is Patty who could probably break Mike’s face. But he wants to, and he thinks that should count. He asks Chris to ask Aldis to ask Coach to let Misha help get back all the roll-away balls for everyone instead of playing, and he’s beet red the rest of class but it’s not so bad when Misha’s smiling happily on the sidelines.

He doesn’t see Misha for Language. It’s the longest Language Arts class in the whole world. Mike can’t sit still at all and Mr. Foggarty is still twitchy about the time Mike brought his pet ants to school with him and let them out for a walk. Mike even made himself a black arm band out of one of his mama’s tube socks to show he’s in grieving but he doesn’t feel like putting it on. His pages fill up with doodles of basketballs and sometimes the basketballs have eyes and things because they’re really his head, but sometimes they have hair too because they’re Misha.

Mike is pretty bummed that he doesn’t see Misha in the hallways as he grabs his stuff, which is probably the first time he’s ever been bummed after fifth period ever. But still, school is out, and he races Chris and Chad all the way to the buses, leaves them in the dust when they have to stop at #12 and he has to go to #23. He claims his spot in the back and spreads out, kicking his feet up across the aisle as he fishes out his gameboy.

“Hi!”

Mike’s head snaps up so fast it hurts. Misha’s standing in the aisle by his knees looking shy, and Mike’s hands feel slippery on the buttons.

“Can I…?” Misha’s quiet voice asks after a moment, and Mike yanks his feet off the other seat like it’s on fire. A couple of fifth graders give him annoyed looks—the ones who’ve been trying to get in the other back seat since kindergarten. Mike ignores them and has to work hard to keep Mario from walking into a turtle.

“Are you a Buddhist?” Misha chirps as the bus starts to take off, and Mike looks up to see Misha’s too-big eyes watching him over the knees he has tucked up on the seat.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I’m a Jew.”

“Oh. Do they shave their heads too?”

“We don’t eat pork,” Mike says like that’s the answer, then blushes so hard Mario dies twice in a row.

Misha somehow winds up in Mike’s seat so they can take turns with the gameboy and help each other win with cheats and made up moves, but Misha’s stop comes way too soon. They’re so caught up in the game Misha almost misses it entirely and has to scramble for his things and run down the aisle.

Mike’s not too surprised he forgot something, honestly, even if it’s just a crumpled sheet of paper sort of folded into an airplane-ish shape. Like, if you really looked at it a long time, and had never seen an airplane before in person. Mike only unfolds it because he figures he can make a better one.

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/queenklu/pic/0005wgpb)   


 

THE END


End file.
